"Look who's back."

"I had to make a phone call, and the silencing curse was inconvenient."

"So you can identify curses, eh? I'll test you on a few things before I believe that you deserve special treatment. Classmates are sitting by and are training together while you, their friend, are galavanting around, doing who knows what."

I know half the people here. That doesn't include everyone on my team. Great, I'm cursed again. I'll use this time while spikey hair is lecturing me to use [Scientific Insight+] on the people around me. Everyone but the instructors are level 100, but I noticed something peculiar.

Only the female's level is hidden from me, but spikey hair's level is at 200. There hasn't been a definitive level cap found, but it's believed that the peak of humans is level 300. Overcoming that amount shouldn't be improbable since my grandpa and the rest of the First Party were way over that amount. I guess the average for big shots would be around 300, then. I wonder what level master Wang is.

It's hard for me to believe that I'm a third of the way there, all things considered, but seeing that I need 100 experience at level one but 250 million for level 100 makes me realize that I still have a long way to go. I hope level 100 is gatekeeping weaklings and this experience trend doesn't continue for long.

"You're pretty buff. And rude. What's your class?"

"Shouldn't you know that as an instructor? Or as someone who works for the institute. I'm sure citizens who are up-to-date with national news would at least have an idea about me."

"Alright, smart guy. I just came back from outside the Prime Territories to train you guys, and I didn't have a chance to read up on local gossip."

"I'm a tamer."

"Where are your beasts?"

"'Left them at home. Will that be a problem?"

"Nope. You'll have to compete with your own body. Now I have a few choices for you. You can systematically beat each of your teammates, all eleven of them, or you can go through a gauntlet of my design."

I looked down at my prosthetic when he said, "own body." So does he. We don't say anything about it.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you just faced me yourself? I mean this in the least disrespectful way possible, but I'd prefer to get beaten by you than listen to another word you say. It gives me more options to fight back with."

"Sure, if you wanna fight. Just don't die. I'd probably lose my job."

The other students start whispering to each other. I feel like I have made a mistake. I don't think I'd win a fight between us, but I figured I'd be able to hold my ground. It's been a while since I had to punch up, and I wanna make sure my skills are still up-to-date. My team is more concerned for my safety than the other team. John and his gaggle of girls are well aware of my capabilities. I assume the best team would scout their competitors and understand their strengths and weaknesses when we were competitors in the tournament. Or maybe I'm reading this wrong, and they do not care for my safety.

We get situated in an indoor gymnasium. The inside of the building can be broadcasted to the outside, like the fractures from the tournament. The spectators don't have to get in harm's way to watch this fight. I managed to sneak in a question while spiky hair was stretching.

"You asked me what my class is. Can you tell me what your class is?

"It's a little bit of everything. I'll start."

My brain managed to register what he said in time for me to see a fist flying straight for my face. Master Wang's training touched on little aspects of martial arts that I haven't touched upon. Some martial arts have blocking techniques that use the opponent's momentum against them or precise movements to halt blows, but the broken body is different. I recall a quote from master Wang.

"If the opponent is going for your neck, block with your neck. If the opponent is going for your leg, block with your leg. Once you learn how to stop blows with your entire body, blocking becomes a wasted movement. You could completely go on the offense instead. It psyches out your opponent when they realize you will not stop charging like a bloody boar." I only tilt my head. A broken nose this early in the fight would be inconvenient.

The instructor didn't do enough damage to surpass my resistance, but that wasn't the end of his attack. Streaks of lightning emanate from his fist. He strikes again, but bouts of fire come out this time. I fought back, but my fist didn't connect as he stepped out of my reach. He comes back in and stabs me between the ribs with a knife I didn't see before.

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[Resistance: Piercing 399 > 400 (500)]

I grab the arm holding the knife. It's still in my body, so I'm locking spikey hair here. I go for another attack, but more streaks of lightning, this time being channeled through the knife, ravage my body. I can taste the burnt blood as my muscles contract. My hair loses gravity, and steam billows from my mouth. Spikey hair got one of my lungs. Almost half my health, over 2000, is gone just like that. He tries to twist the knife and pull it out, but it's stuck in my body.

[Resistance: Lightning 250 > 310 (410)]

Since I have him grabbed, I use [Bramble Blade] to conjure thorny vines around him. Blood-sucking tendrils manage to bind him, but they are still spoiled from the taste of my blood, so they refuse to nourish themselves on different 'nectar.' I managed to punch him two times in the neck before he slipped out of his bondage, quite literally.

There was a *zoop,* and he was gone. He backed away from me as I pulled the knife out of my ribcage and tended my wounds. It looks like he's doing the same. My damage reflection is a real bother to get around. An arrow gets fired at me, and I try to pull a fast on and catch it, but it explodes before it touches my fingers.

My flesh sizzles and my eyes burn from the fumes. Whatever was in that explosion was corrosive and eating away at my top layer. I cough and hack. My lungs are still tender from the last attack. The damage over time is more than my passive healing, so I have to substitute it with my healing skill. I'm going to try something new.

I snap my fingers and run at the instructor. I'm going to gamble that my [Spirit] is higher than his, even with our level difference. He seems to be a jack of all trades. A level 200 person who only has six stats would, on average, have less than my 235 points in [Spirit]. I don't know his stats, but It's worth a shot.

My command with my [Master's Hand] was to turn around. I couldn't test the exact parameters of what's considered harmful for the target. Telling them to walk into upcoming traffic would be a no-go, right? But what if I give them an order that makes them unaware of incoming danger? Or what if they don't perceive it as dangerous until the last minute? What if they fully believe themselves immune to fire while they aren't, and I tell them to stroll through a house fire? Would that still be possible?

There was resistance against my ability, but the instructor did not break free in time. I used [Battered Bones] to break my legs as I committed a drop kick. Both my legs break, adding amplification to the action. I soar through the air with twice the momentum as I slam my broken, battered legs into his body. I activate [Donkey Punch] for good measure.

-1049

The attack blasts him into the back wall, leaving bloody footprints on his shirt. I mend my legs and stand tall. The instructor casually walks back to me. He is damaged, but his injuries are healing in real time. He spits out blood and wipes his nose with his thumb.

"A tamer, huh? 'Could have fooled me. Once a week. Try not to miss it."

When he finished his sentence, he was back in tip-top shape. I wonder if he was holding back and approving of me or if he doesn't want the fight to continue for other reasons. It seems like he could continue if he wanted, but I wonder. I only managed to get one-ups on him due to surprises or his lack of stats... I can see why he'd be a coach instead of an athlete. Why am I disappointed the fight ended?

The training was finished for me at that point. The rest of the day was basic exercises. I could do that at master Wang's instead, so I did. I stopped by my monkey brother's penthouse and raided his liquor cabinet for something that he wouldn't miss or that I could replace. I don't remember when, but I lost my government-issued ID, and I need that to buy alcohol. It's for master Wang.

He wanted a gift, and I assume he's the type to appreciate a good drink. I grab a sake-type thing and leave the penthouse, passing by the half reconstructed boulder. I'm tempted to go back and check in on my Beryl, but prematurely meeting back up with her would do more harm than good. I leave the building.

~

A schedule was finally put in place for me. So far, it was kinda adlibbed on what I'd be doing that day, but my masters got together when I wasn't looking and set something up for me. They both have the same idea, "baby birds should leave the nest," so once I get moderately better, they'd leave me to my own devices. They have different takes on the saying, however. Master Wang believes that a bird isn't ready to fly if it hasn't "broken" in its wings. Master Giles is more traditional in the phrase, but his bird puns were not eggcellent.

Even after the training, they'd still be my masters, but my quote-unquote training arc would be finished. They wouldn't be unreceptive to teaching me or helping me grow after the fact, but I'd actually had to pay them back. If I have to join a martial arts tournament to reclaim the honor of the [Broken Body Martial Arts], I'd be incredibly peeved. I'd understand, but still.

My masters are aware of my unnatural defenses, more so master Wang than master Giles, but they respected my privacy and didn't pry. They most likely know resistance stats exist but are unaware of my trait, which expedites gaining them. Master Wang has dedicated one day out of the week where I'd undergo "training" in many different forms. Lucky me.

The other days are a mix of exercises to maximize my stat gains, getting familiar with a "fighting style," and spending quality time with my beasts. Time to train my skills is sprinkled in between all that. And I can't forget about heading to the institute once a week. A hidden upside to this hectic schedule is that my exhaustion resistance is being trained passively. Maybe I could become so superhuman that I'm indistinguishable from an undead.

I told master Wang about my [Dash] and [Hurl] skills. They're something that I gained early on, but I haven't shown much love to them.

"You missed the window of easily gaining the 'trash' skills, so you have three options. You can forget about them and only remember them when it's convenient, train the shit out of them so they become such a reliable tool that you'd use them in every situation, or you can try to implement them into the martial arts."

"What do you suggest? The last one?"

"Nope. I'll beat the shit out of you if you touch my martial arts with those basic journeyman skills. Not until you start custom-making your own skills, at least. You can treat those skills like your beasts. Train them in the way you'd like them to progress. If you prefer bursts of speed rather than lengthy jogs, the skills showcase that. Too bad your affinities are shit. or you could have a 'lightning dash" or a "flaming hurl.' Heh heh heh. I shouldn't say too much since my affinities aren't much better."

I'll have to contemplate this.